Unfortunate
by Rai-Mun
Summary: He wanted what he could never have, something rare and wonderful and deadly. Alone in his lair, who knew what the Master Hunter did to pass the time – And to pass the ache that wouldn't stop. SxD


**Title**: Unfortunate  
**Fandom**: Danny Phantom  
**Characters**: Skulker / Fenton And Phantom  
**Pairings**: Callous Quarry (One Sided) / Passing Mention of Pompous Pep / Passing Mention of Gray Ghost / Passing Mention to Hunter's Flame  
**Rating**: R  
**Genre**: Horror / Drama  
**Word Count**: 12648  
**Catch Line**: There were some things that burned with far more intensity than the average helium-powered flame, and it was always those kinds of burnings one should try to avoid… Unless the sex that came with it was even hotter.  
**Summary**: He wanted what he could never have, something rare and wonderful and deadly. Alone in his lair, who knew what the Master Hunter did to pass the time – And to pass the ache that wouldn't stop. SxD  
**Timeline**: A few weeks after the events of "Micro Management"  
**Warnings**: Nudity / Language / Violence / Implied Masturbation / Danny And His Hero Complex / Skulker And His Stalker Tendencies / The Authoress' Love For The Hunt  
**Disclaimer**: Danny Phantom belongs to the awesomeness that is Butch Hartman, and not to the fangirlishness that is moi. The sick and contrived plot of this story, however… Well, that belongs to me, and not to Butch Hartman. But you already knew that, right?  
**Notes**: "Skulker", hmm? Maybe you should consider having your name legally changed to "Stalker" instead. Because this is the Danny Phantom equivalent of Meth Crack for me, and I do love my Meth. :P Does anyone else think Skulker may be a little too obsessed with the Ghost Child? Insisting on having him in his room – Heaven knows what twisted things the Hunter plans to do with his pretty little prey… I only hope Ember doesn't find out, or Skulker will never hear the end of it. X3 Up next, expect something with the personification of 'Fun' and the embodiment of a 'Super Hero'! 333  
**Coming Up Next**: She only loved him when he was saving her, and she only shunned him when he pinned for her. It was a bow to his ego then – Or rather, his Ego had given him the blow – When he turned on the television set to see the Princess and the Phantom in one accord.  
**Listening To**: "Lachrymose" – Evanescence / "Afterglow" – INXS / "Four In The Morning" – Gwen Stefani / "Thanks For The Memories" – Fall Out Boy

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It was turning out to be another one of those days.

It had started out simple enough – He had been tasked by his employer, the great Halfa Vladimir Plasmius, to obtain a rather ornate looking artifact from the depths of the Ghost Zone's outer rim, a place where not even the stronger denizens of that world dared to traverse without great need to do so.

Of course, rumors of malice and all malignant speculation aside, the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter feared little in the way of his own safety – After all, he was no more confident with his suit (Which he had designed and constructed himself) than he was worried by the reports of what dwelt in his ultimate destination. From the idle chitchat he had participated in with the Technology Master Nicholai Technus, he could only come to the shadowy assumption that this sector of the Ghost Zone was specifically reserved for all things relating to the Ancient Order – The very same order that had first locked the Ghost King Pariah Dark away in the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep all those many millennia ago.

So there he was, flying through the endless swirls of purple in an abyss of black and green, rocketed forth by his suit's rockets, with no care for anything he passed other than what he came to obtain.

It was suppose to be some type of orb (As all ancient magical artifacts were prone to be) of immeasurable strength, or so Vlad had told him, but he had drowned out the man's droll explanations when his emerald eyes fell upon a series of consoles in a darkened corner of the older Halfa's underground laboratory.

There must have been dozens of screens, all flickering with an intense illumination, and each focusing, at a different angle, at the single solitary prize the Hunter would give anything to posses.

The Ghost Boy; Daniel "Danny" Fenton.

Inviso-Bill, as the clueless residence of Amity Park had once known him by, Phantom as he was known to the rest of the ghost community.

He was standing outside his house – What, with that ridiculously pronounced "Fenton Works", where else could he be? – Holding a rather animated conversation with a female he vaguely recognized as the Hunter of Amity Park.

Skin the color of chocolate and bright emerald eyes belonging to a Valerie Gray. Odd, what were they –

Skulker's green eyes narrowed sharply at the sudden stinging realization of what exactly it was he was watching. Turning to the still rambling man beside him, he pointed towards the screens. "Obsessed, aren't you?"

The Wisconsin Ghost paused in mid-rant and turned to face the taller Ghost Hunter. "…Obsessed? Me?" An almost wicked grin formed at the corners of his mouth, icy blue eyes gleaming with something the other could not recognize, "Are you sure you want to go down the path of this conversation, Skulker?" He trailed a long finger over the ghost's metallic front, his pointed canines gleaming in the low light of the underground base. "If there is anyone here worthy of baring the title of 'obsessed' – And that is such a harsh word – With Daniel, I believe that the title should fall onto you."

Skulker frowned visibly, taking Vlad's wrist in his hand and pulling his finger away. "I am not obsessed with the Ghost Child. I merely want him and all his uniqueness. That is what I do, I collect all things rare and special." His green eyes fell onto the consoles once again, and the sudden presence of a snarl was barely hidden when he noticed that the boy was now holding hands with the female hunter, both laughing at something he rather didn't care to know about, "And that child is so much more than that. Soon, I shall have him in my possession, hanging from my wall."

Another knowing, insufferable smirk made itself present on Master's face. "Such a need to posses the Little Badger… Dear Skulker, are you certain you don't want him for any other purpose?"

The Ghost hunter snarled. "Bite your tongue," The faintest of reds raced across the metallic expanse of his face, "I have a girlfriend. I'm not sexually frustrated!"

Vlad blinked up at him. "I never said you were."

And with a smile far too familiar for his comfort, the older Halfa turned his attention to the plasma screens and sighed as they both watched the topic of their conversation lean in for a kiss with Miss Gray.

"I sincerely hope, Skulker…" Rings of black ink formed and raced across the slender body of the human, fading away to reveal a much manlier, more threatening figure with glowing ruby eyes and pale blue skin, "That you don't let me beat you to him."

That had been the conversation he had shared with his employer just hours earlier, before he had received the assignment he was currently on. He was not too fond of what the man had said to him in parting, and it was causing him grief worse than he wanted to deal with at the moment.

Racing farther to meet the stark blackness around him, it only began to dawn onto him that the many doors that littered the Ghost Zone had vanished completely, and with some sense of surprise he realized he had long passed Pariah's Keep as well. When did he…? Was he so wrapped up in his thought that he failed to notice? This was becoming a problem, this little infatuation with that child.

This had to stop now, this bothersome problem was causing him to loose more than just his focus nowadays.

He came to a stop quite abruptly, cursing under his breath as he scanned his surroundings for a clue as to where in hell he was. No such luck, and the hunter soon found himself standing on one of the rare and barren expanses of rock that sometimes littered the dimension. He let out an angry sigh, allowing his heavy frame to come tumbling down into something of a sitting position.

Damn that asshole Plasmius – And damn that fucking Ghost Child!

Who did he think he was? Strutting around saving people and throwing threats like he threw punches? He was no superhero, he was an insufferable motherfucking whelp. He was no longer the whimsical pet Skulker so desperately wanted locked up inside a cage – No, he had become something bigger. Now, nothing would be good enough than to have that brat beaten and broken, a prize locked in his room to serve his Master's enjoyment. And by enjoyment…

An aggravated sound grumbled form deep within the hunter, and while he wanted nothing more than some peace for just five goddamned minutes, he was becoming increasingly aware that the conversation he had with is employer was currently affecting him more than he wanted it to.

Flying through the vast loneliness of the Ghost Zone had gotten him thinking, thinking about what he would do to the Halfa when he finally cornered him, finally had him squirming in his grasp… His thoughts about this as of late had gone from darkly comical and humiliating to exceedingly darker and grizzlier and more abrasion based – Abrasion, in the sense that he was slowly beginning to come to a realization just why he loved lording it over the boy, of why he just had to be on top of him, even for a moment, before the confused child threw an Ectoblast at him and stood his ground in their fight that – At least in his mind – Had progressed into some sort of laughable grotesque dance.

Oh, how he did enjoy the witty banter and cleaver put ups. But what he wanted, what he looked forward to more than anything, and what he needed most – Those were things he kept guarded closer than what his true form looked like. Deep inside his almost organic body, nestled in the confines of so many neural receptors and interlacing wires, it was there one would find the truth to the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter.

Appearances can be deadly deceiving, after all.

His mind was elsewhere completely, seemingly unaware as he languidly removed his metallic gauntlets and pulled at the "S" clasp emblazoned on his belt. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the Ghost Boy and his mortal self. What was it, exactly, that drew him – And about half a dozen other people, ranging from revenge crazed women, stone-faced prison wardens, and eccentric billionaire Halfas. Not to mention those ever inept Guys In White and the occasional fangirl. But what was it that made him so desirable, what fueled them all on to posses him?

Why did the desire – The need - To hunt down and pursue the boy run so damn strong? He was drawn to him, this was true, it was true in all aspects of the words 'drawn' and 'true', but… People do the craziest shit for different reasons, and this was no different. Maybe he was crazy for being so damn insistent with possessing one teenage boy.

He wasn't even a man yet, just a wispy frail teenage boy with amazing powers. Special powers. Although… He was special, and not only because of the powers he possessed (Which did make him special, but now he was being redundant), but because HE, alone and as an individual, was special. He was clever, determined, strong willed, and forever driven by the need to play hero.

"Hero…Ngh…" His fingers had found their way down the front of his tight black pants' waistband, icy tips brushing against the sensitive metal circuitry that made up his midsection. For a moment he thought of his fiery blue haired girlfriend, a pop vixen with the most delicious curves he had ever seen – Before the image of a raven haired youth with clear blue eyes and a thin lanky frame took her place. "Shit." The boy had somehow managed to find him, an almost innocent smile playing on his features.

The nerve of that whelp! How dare he think of smiling when the Greatest Hunter was glaring little daggers of white-hot hatred towards him? "Insufferable… Brat." But the boy was undeterred, getting down on all fours and crawling languidly towards the ghost, a pink tongue coming out to lick his partially open lips. He reached out and took the hunter's hand in his own, placing in on his cheek before letting out a soft purr of affection.

Skulker's emerald eyes widened considerably at the uncharacteristic show of placid affection. He continued to watch as the mortal boy slipped his fingers down the hem of his shirt, pausing momentarily to smile at him before he pulled the garment over his head, revealing a flat chest with just the tiniest hint of his developing muscle definition. Skulker let out a sharp hiss, his eyes hungrily devouring the sight of the topless young boy in front of him.

"Let me," The still grinning boy leaned over, pulling the hunter's hands away from where they rested on top of his suddenly painful erection, and the ghost suddenly wondered where the hell this whelp had come from. But all coherent thought was pushed aside when he felt the boy's own fingers come to pull at the top of his pants, and he watched, encaptivated, as he leaned forward and caught the pants' zipper in his teeth.

Skulker shuddered involuntary, feeling his warm breath through his clothes. When he had built this body, he had spared no sense, no part, and no good taste. His girlfriend had smirked condescendingly at this – Damn bitch – Before pushing him down and mounting him. But that was neither now or there.

What was there and what was now was this.

He had once heard the boy's elder sister comment that ghosts had a tendency to be obsessed with one particular thing, and usually carried on to great lengths to hold on to the said obsession. It wasn't difficult to see, and he agreed with her. Looking around at the other ghosts he knew, it was really a trait one was bond to notice sooner than later. And the boy, his boy, well… He was obsessed with playing hero. That was him.

But at the moment, playing hero was seemingly as far away from the boy's mind than ever… As it should be, because all that was on the boy's mind was what Skulker wanted him to think. "Fucking corporeal imagination…"

His pants had come down easily enough, sliding down to rest on his bended knees. He reached out, grasping the boy in front of him by his hair. "Open your mouth," He ordered, although with the way his voice cracked, it could hardly be considered as threatening. But still, the boy complied, smiling all the way. "And quit smiling."

He complied – With the opening your mouth part at least – And took all of the hunter in, letting out a contented sigh. Skulker stiffened, and promptly thrust into the boy's mouth, fingers tightening around black locks that were normally snow white when they met – But not now, they weren't fighting after all.

Skulker thrust back against the boy's mouth, grunting when he felt the boy place his hands on his metal hips to stop him from bucking against his mouth. He growled, shoving the hands away. He was going to fuck this baby's face all the way to paydirt, and he would be damned if he had to take it slow.

A dizzying array or lights had began dancing in front of the ghost at the wet heated vacuum he found his most sensitive of parts enveloped in, and the small mewling sounds coming form the face he was shoving himself onto were simply mind blowingly delicious - Outright arousing and proving a wonderful backdrop against the stark silence of the Ghost Zone.

This was a far more excellent outlet for all of the hunter's pent up aggressions, and as he felt himself coming close to some sort of explosion – Even his girlfriend never made him feel quite like this – The sudden overpowering urge to fuck more than the boy's mouth came washing over him with a consistent urgency unlike anything else.

And another thought, one not strictly related to the activities he was participating in, came wailing into mind like some clingy ex-girlfriend.

He had to have him.

It was almost lost in the sudden rage he felt building up in his nether regions, a rage in his stomach that washed over every inch on circuitry and still ecto-organic part of him, coming to end in a sparkling explosion in the youth's mouth.

He had to have him.

The realization, unbidden as it was, came along with the last traces of his release as it came washing down over him. So that was it then. Plasmius was right. "Fucking bastard."

And not just for show.

He had to have him. Had to have that strong determined young boy. He wanted him there, beneath him – Begging and struggling and wanting. That was what drove the desire for the hunt. Of course. To have him there, his small frail form bending and grinding and screaming against every inch of him in some erotic moment pulled right out of his sick little fantasies…

It was a dream. It was his dream.

Getting to his feet, the hunter looked down at the rocky expanse of ground as he pulled his gauntlets back on and zipped the front of his black pants. The hunt had suddenly become just a little more personal. Grinning his trademark feral grin, he activated his rockets and began to once again plan out what it was exactly he would do to the boy once he had him in his lair…

Skulker frowned, visibly annoyed. After all the trouble he had gone through, it seemed as though getting that fucking orb Vladimir wanted was becoming an impossibly difficult task.

"Sorry Skulker my man, but you aren't getting this shiny little baby any time soon."

"Got that right Ghost Boy!"

Damn it. The Phantom and the Huntress – How fucking predictable. As if dealing with the ever looming threat of Masters stealing the Halfa away from him wasn't enough to put him on edge. Join the club, Skulker. Everyone wants a piece of the Ghost Boy's mortal self.

Damn it. He hated those kinds of days.

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I love Skulker. I do. Although, as you probably already know, the fangirl is prone to torture the one she loves. This was a real treat to write, especially during the witty conversations between Vlad and the train of thought Skulker carried for Danny. Feel free to shot me for the dosage of Gray Ghost here, but hey! If cannon will shove Amethyst Ocean down our throats, then I in turn shall inject all sorts of Gray Ghost all over the place. grin Anyway, I really wish I could find some Great Divide (Fun!Danny x Super!Danny) to read over here… It's recently come to my attention just how much I love the pants off of Super!Danny, and I wanna feel the love:P Until next time, you guys know the drill. Adios!


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